Archive of Our Own

Maybe buying unlabeled, unmarked potions that not even the shopkeeper knew what it did wasn’t a very good idea. The poor halfling man at the counter stared at the bottle for a long time after Chip had placed it down. A quizzical look crossed his face as he looked from the item, then to Chip, then back down to the item on the scratched wooden surface. 

There was a long stretch of silence as they stared at each other. The bottle didn’t even have a price tag on it, no sort of verification or label of even the name or creator of the potion. Chip had just picked it up off one of the counters, stared at the swirling orange liquid for a moment to contemplate what it was before he brought it to the counter to purchase it. Why the hell not? He had a few extra coins that he could spend and was left unsupervised. And besides, who didn’t love a good mystery?

It was probably something stupid. Even if an unlabeled potion wasn’t a good idea to mess with, especially with how finicky potions were. But Chip loved testing his luck, one of these days his hubris would befall him, but he was going to continue pushing that limit until it happened. He figured that Jay might be able to somehow figure out what it did anyway, so at least he had some sort of backup plan.

But not even the shopkeeper so far knew what the potion was, he picked it up in one hand and swirled it this way and that, watching the way that the liquid lapped against the side of the bottle. He examined the glass, the way the neck shape was, even the cork before he even pulled it out of the mouth of the bottle and gave the potion a sniff, wrinkling his nose at the odor. Chip had gone through the same routine a few minutes ago, he could still smell the sickly sweet scent in his nose.

“You want to buy this?” The shopkeeper said in a gravelly, thickly accented voice as he placed the stopper back and gave Chip a baffled expression. Chip placed his palms on the counter and rolled his shoulders back in a sort of shrug.

“Do you know what it does?” Chip raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t make it,” he explained, placing it back down on the counter and pushing it towards Chip, one hand curled protectively over the neck of the glass, “you want? 10 gold.”

“Do you know someone that might know what it does, before I buy it?” Chip rocked back and forth on his heels, eager to get out of this shop and find wherever Gillion and Jay had ended up. He was ready to get back to their ship for the day and maybe set sail in the morning. It had been a busy few days and he didn't want to stay here longer than he needed to.

“No,” The halfling made a noise from the back of his throat, “10 gold.”

Chip merely clicked his tongue at the price, fishing the small coins out of his pocket and dropping them onto the counter. It seemed a little expensive for an unknown potion, but why not? He had the money for it. Even if Chip might have felt better if the shopkeeper could have pointed him in the direction of someone that would be able to identify it. But that thought turned out to be a bust, and Chip was left in the dark about the potion's use. He would have to either try and do a taste himself or see if Jay would be able to figure it out. She was good with that type of stuff.

Chip left the shop without a word after placing the desired amount on the counter. He snatched the bottle by the neck and stuffed it into his bag, his shoes thudding against the wooden floorboards as he exited. The bell above the door jangled loudly and Chip immediately had to push himself through the crowds of people that had gathered on the streets.

He was sure that by this point, Jay and Gillion had found their way back to the ship. Since the main part of town was close enough to the docks, they had decided not to waste the money on an inn if they were just going to leave the next day. It would save money and be easier that way in the long run. It made sense when the port was practically most of the entire village.

So Chip turned down the street that he remembered leading towards their ship. The potion in his bag sloshed around, the orange liquid pushing and pulsating against the side of the glass bottle as he walked and tripped over cracks in the pavement.

It was a mystery how so many people managed to fit in such a small town. The streets were way too packed. Enough so that Chip was getting a little claustrophobic, and he wasn’t nearly as bad with crowds as Gillion was. Gillion always had a hard time getting around when there were a lot of people, and the noise gave him a headache. Jay normally got nervous when they were near a lot of people, her default state of being happened to always be on edge but that seemed to get worse when they were in crowded places.

Chip didn’t mind being around a lot of people. He was used to it. There were always a lot of people around him when he was growing up. It had just become a part of his life.

But Chip didn’t like that he had to keep nudging past people, shoving between couples, and doing his best just to get to somewhere with a bit more breathing room. The sidewalks were annoyingly crowded, and Chip kept feeling something tugging on the back of his shirt, or his pants leg would catch on something and he would stumble and run into a person or two. It was annoying. He was tired of it.

By the time Chip had made it to the docks, he was exhausted and hungry. He had completely forgotten about the bottle of unknown liquid sitting in his bag.

Gillion and Jay were, as he figured, waiting on the ship when he returned. Jay was hammering nails into the railing of the ship where a few boards needed to be replaced before they fell off. She had one leg thrown over the side of the ship as she practically straddled the thin railing just to reach the part that needed fixing. Her bangs had been pulled back with a strip of fabric to keep the red curls out of her face as a couple nails stuck out from between her lips.

She looked so close to falling off the ship, precariously balanced on the edge. At this point, she hadn’t even noticed that someone was approaching. Chip didn’t want to admit that he felt a little tempted. His hands twitched at his side which he quickly shoved into his pockets, tilting his head up to avoid the temptation.

Shaking those thoughts out of his head and quickly pushing them down, Chip made his presence known by stomping up the wooden ramp to get to their ship. The heels of his boots thudded against the ramp and he made a big show of approaching. Jay barely looked up from what she was doing, her piercing blue eyes flicking over to where he stood. Chip stared back, bangs falling in front of his face with a sudden gust of wind.

“Welcome back,” she muttered, voice slightly slurred past the nails that she held between her lips. Her cheeks and nose were flushed a darker shade of red from the sun that beat down against the deck of their ship and Chip could practically trace out every freckle on her face with his eyes. She had been out in the sun for a long time, clearly.

“Is that all you’ve been doing all day?” Chip asked, fidgeting with the strap of his bag as he watched her with a raised eyebrow. He curled his fingers around the leather, feeling the texture against his skin, and huffed. The air was thick with humidity and salt which would soon cause his hair to frizz up.

“No,” Jay sat up and threw her leg back over the railing, hopping back onto the deck, and spitting the nails out of her mouth and into her open palm, “I’ve been doing other stuff around the ship. Gillion helped me clean earlier.” She tilted her head to the side and pushed her bangs away from her forehead. A bead of sweat ran down the side of her face and she huffed, smoothing down the front of her shirt.

“Where is Gill?” Chip asked, glancing around the top deck of their ship as if the Triton would somehow materialize out of thin air (he did that sometimes, appearing without warning once someone mentioned his name). Chip stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned back to Jay. She watched him intensely with her eyebrows slightly furrowed, Chip debated pointing out her sunburn or not. He’d leave it alone for now.

“I don’t know, I think the last time I checked he was in the kitchen.”

“You let him in there?” Chip asked, eyebrows shooting up. He let his jaw drop comically for a few seconds before smoothing out his expression and shaking his head slightly.

“He’s fine,” Jay waved her hand dismissively, “I don’t know if he’s still in there or not.”

“I’ll find him eventually, he’s not that good at hiding,” Chip sucked in a sharp breath and let it woosh past his lips with a roll of his eyes, “you keep doing whatever you’re doing.”

“Yes captain,” Jay rolled her eyes, tone thick with sarcasm as she gave Chip a mock salute. Chip stuck his tongue out to her, and she responded with just as teasing of a face as Chip thumped his way towards the kitchen, footsteps heavy against the floorboards.

Shoving the door open with his shoulder, one hand still wrapped tightly around the strap of his bag, Chip stepped into the kitchen. He wiped his bangs out of his eyes and blinked at the sudden shift in lightning as the kitchen was significantly darker than the sun outside.

However, as Jay had said, Gillion was sitting in the kitchen by himself. He hovered near the counter, tail wagging behind himself with an uneven rhythm as he hummed softly. A small smile spread across Chip’s face as he recognized the tune to be something that he had played for Gillion on the guitar. A blossom of warmth spread in the center of his chest that Gillion had remembered the song enough to be singing it while he did whatever he was doing in the kitchen.

“Hey, Gil,” Chip spoke up, leaning his elbow against the counter as he approached Gillion to see what the Triton was doing. Gillion’s ear flicked and he looked over, tail stilling from where he had been wagging it. He let his hands rest over the counter as he turned to fully face him.

“Hello, Chip,” Gillion’s lips pulled back into a friendly smile, sharp, intimidating teeth reflecting with the low lighting of the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” Chip asked, turning to the counter to see what Gillion had been doing.

On the wooden surface, Gillion had a couple of familiar fruits, an orange, a lime, and a lemon. All of them were citrus-type fruits that he dug his claws into the skin to peel it from the flesh underneath. Gillion’s hands were visibly sticky and coated with fruit juice as he continued to press his claws under the lip that he had already torn into. His ear twitched again and he tilted his head to the side.

“Peeling fruit,” Gillion explained, “do you want some?”

“A lemon?” Chip blinked, a little confused by the offer.

“Yes?” Gillion nudged an already peeled lemon with the back of his hand, pushing it towards Chip. He had peeled the skin from it and separated the different pieces into individual slices that were resting on the counter. Chip stared at it dumbfoundedly, confusion lacing his expression.

“Uh… no thanks Gill, I’m good,” Chip held up one hand in front of himself in a placating gesture. As much as he would have loved to, Chip didn’t think that he had the energy to explain to Gillion why peeling a lemon wasn’t what you were supposed to do with the fruit. That would be a conversation for another time, one that Chip didn’t need to get into at the moment. They could have that talk later.

“Ah, alright,” Gillion hummed from the back of his throat, his gills flexing from along his neck as he swallowed thickly. He gave another low hum and dug his nails into the orange peel. Chip was sure that Gillion’s hands would be sticky for months after that.

Chip grabbed the strap of his bag, beginning to lift it over his shoulder to set it down somewhere so it wasn’t digging into his skin for so long when he heard the clanking of a bottle. The sound reminded Chip of his previous purchase earlier in the day and he quickly dug into his bag to grab the bottle.

“Hey Gill,” Chip pulled out the bottle, wrapping his fingers around the narrow glass neck, and tossed his bag over to the table where he would probably forget about it later, “do you know anything about potions.”

“Hm?” Gillion thought for a moment, scrunching up his face as he looked at Chip with a curious expression, “I have studied a little on the subject.”

“Do you know how to figure out what a potion does without drinking it?” Chip asked, swishing the potion around in his hand and watching the orange liquid swish against the side of the glass. He raised one eyebrow and slid his tongue over his lips.

“Let me see,” Gillion reached over with one hand (still sticky with citrus juice) and signaled that he wanted the potion. Chip handed it to him a little reluctantly, not really wanting to get the glass all dirty.

But Gillion thoroughly examined the potion, pulling the glass up close to his face and swishing it around. He rubbed his fingers over the glass and stared at what happened when it was slightly shaken. Gillion even uncorked it and pulled the rim up to his nose, swishing it once more and smelling the liquid. Chip watched him do all this with a slightly curious expression, chewing on the inside of his mouth.

“It should not be anything dangerous,” Gillion finally concluded, corking the bottle once more and extending his hand to Chip, “Not as far as I am aware.” 

“If you say so,” Chip shrugged and accepted the bottle. He stared at the liquid for a few seconds, watching the iridescent colors swirl. A flickering temptation reared its ugly head in the back of his mind and Chip internally debated with himself on the subject.

“Would it be a bad idea to taste it?” Chip asked, looking over at Gillion who had returned to his task of peeling fruit. Chip had no idea what his obsession was with peeling the fruit, but he wouldn’t be one to judge, if he was committed then hey, he was committed.

Gillion just shrugged and made a sound from the back of his throat, one that Chip was unable to decipher. Chip was going to take that as a “no, go ahead.”

Uncorking the bottle with one hand and lifting it to his lips, Chip took a sip of the liquid. A sickly sweet, overwhelming taste filled his mouth, almost the same flavor as honey without the thickness as he swallowed. Chip almost gagged, not expecting the sheer sweetness of the potion, and quickly pulled the rim away from his mouth.

It burned past the lump in his throat and settled heavily in the pit of Chip’s stomach, almost causing an instant bout of nausea that he quickly swallowed down. Chip made a shocked noise, spitting his tongue out and giving a short cough. He forgot how awful most potions tasted, even if they were sweet, it was never the kind that he would want to taste twice unless he had to.

Whatever it was, it was clearly something stronger than normal with how rich the flavor was.

Gillion didn’t even react to Chip’s show of drama, he merely twitched an ear in Chip’s direction and looked at him out of the corner of his eye. Chip furrowed his eyebrows and looked back at Gillion, shaking the bottle in one hand back and forth as he twisted his wrist to swish it around.

“Yuck,” Chip wrinkled his nose and placed the stopper back in the mouth of the bottle, pulling it away from his face, “Too sweet.”

“Ah,” Gillion’s nose twitched and he tilted his head to the side, moving another pile of orange slices to the side, “yuck.”

Chip swallowed thickly a few more times in an attempt to get the taste out of his mouth, setting the bottle down on the counter far enough away that hopefully, Gillion wouldn’t knock it onto the floor. The taste was so sweet it almost burned his tongue, a firey feeling spreading from the center of his chest. But for the most part, Chip didn’t feel any different from the potion. At the moment he was unable to tell what the effects would be.

Gillion hummed, wiping his hands on a nearby towel and turning to face Chip, “Maybe it is not a good idea to be drinking potions.”

“You said it wouldn’t do anything bad,” Chip shrugged, running his fingers through his bangs, he wiped his mouth and swallowed again. The taste wouldn’t leave his mouth, making it hard to swallow past the lump in his throat. The potion had almost felt sticky yet had the same consistency of a regular potion like he was drinking some sort of alcohol.

“I did, it should be nothing bad,” Gillion waved his hand dismissively, the webbing between his fingers stretching as he spread his fingers. His gills flexed and his chest rattled with each shaky inhale as usual.

“Then I’ll be fine,” Chip didn’t miss the way that his stomach churned slightly as Gillion stared at him, something tight curling around his chest with a vice grip. He would be fine, he was probably just getting paranoid over what the potion would do, considering he didn’t know the effects and had just taken a decently-sized drink of it. He would be fine.

Gillion nodded confidently, gathering the collection of fruit peels that he had placed on the counter and nudging past Chip to dispose of them. As Gillion bumped against Chip’s side, Chip unconsciously flinched away, a jolt of hot alarm running down his spine. He swallowed down a startled yelp, unsure of why he was suddenly so jumpy. Trying to mask it with a chuckle, Chip brought his hand to his face to cover his mouth, backing away slowly until his back pressed against the wooden counter with the surface digging into his skin.

Gillion didn’t even notice Chip’s supposed uncomfort as he disposed of the fruit peels, returning just to put the slices into a bowl that he grabbed. His tail wagged behind him, happy and satisfied with his job. His fins dragged in the air with the motion as he began humming once more.

“We can go share with Jay,” Gillion smiled, razor-sharp teeth bearing behind pulled-back lips, and Chip took another hesitant step back, shuffling to the side away from Gillion. His heart thudded against his rib cage and Chip swallowed thickly in an attempt to calm his racing heart. His hands were shaking as he clutched them into fists at his sides in an attempt to hide the minuscule movements. Why was he shaking?

“I think I’m gonna go put my stuff away back in the sleeping quarters,” Chip stepped away from Gillion, crossing the room towards the table and grabbing his bag from where he had tossed it, “I’ll join you guys in a second.” He didn’t like having his back to Gillion, a sudden feeling of dread spreading through his entire being, so Chip quickly turned around, eyes widening slightly. The Triton hadn’t moved from where he had previously stood with a bowl of peeled citrus slices in his hands. He stared at Chip with a curious expression, tilting his head to the side and making a noise from the back of his throat. Chip stared back intensely, his breath hitching as he could feel his lungs being squeezed by some unseen force.

“Alright,” Gillion curled his fingers around the smooth surface of the bowl, picking at the citrus fruit slices, “I will be with Jay.”

Chip smiled wearily at Gillion, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with a just as hesitant chuckle. Chip watched Gillion pass, eyes trailing the Triton carefully and waiting until the door loudly slammed behind him before Chip could finally relax with a sigh and a heavy slump of his shoulders. Chip let out a slow breath and brought a hand up to his face to scrub at his cheeks. His heart was still hammering like he had run a few miles from the navy.

Chip shook his head, smacked his cheeks, and exhaled sharply, getting his nerves out before he grabbed his bag and began to make his way out of the kitchen. His footsteps thudded against the ground with steady clicks of his heels and he focused on that instead of the way his stomach continued to churn and do flips from inside him. He would be fine, it was just a small sip. Nothing too terrible.

Chip took his bag down to the sleeping quarters and emptied it of the items he had stashed and collected throughout the day. He hung it up on a hook on the wall and patted down the front of it to smooth the latch and dust off whatever dirt had gotten on it this time. Just idly biding his time in the sleeping quarters before he would have to go back above decks and actually work.

His nerves hadn’t settled even during the time that he had spent messing around with his stuff in his corner of the room. Chip poked around in his pile of clothes, and reorganized the trinkets and small items that he had. He even made his bed for once and pulled the sheets up over the pillow to tuck it neatly against the frame. All that to try and get rid of his nervous energy and it didn’t even work.

Chip was left just as jittery as before, albeit it got a little better once he was alone and didn’t have to deal with the rest of the crew (not deal with them. He loved his crew).

It remained that way for the rest of the day, Chip tried to busy himself with simple and relatively easy tasks to distract himself from the pounding of his heart and the anxiety in his stomach (that only seemed to get worse when one of the others were in the room). None of his distractions seemed to work and Jay was beginning to get annoyed with his fidgeting and jumpiness. Especially after he had accidentally elbowed her in the stomach twice after she “snuck up” on him.

Chip, too, was getting annoyed with the anxiety. It had gone from distressing and a little nerve-wracking to just plain bothersome. He was tired of it, exhausted even. And by the end of the day, Chip was ready to just finish the day and be done with it, hoping tomorrow would be better and less agonizing. 

He sat on the edge of his cot for a while, running his fingers through his hair and scrubbing at his face. His pajama shirt hung off his shoulder, exposing a large patch of rough tan skin as the yellow light of the lantern flickered across his form.

Gillion was sitting just outside his barrel, brushing his hair and detangling it from his coral, something that he did pretty much every night. When he finished detangling his hair, he stretched his legs in front of himself, stretched his feet, and smoothed his palms over his damp skin. He wiggled his shirt off, folding his fins back as he took quick stock of himself and what had happened during the day, patting his hands over long healed scars and doing things for whatever odd reason that Gillion did things for.

He took his armor off, removed his sword and all his gear from the day, and placed it nearby, hanging his sword up somewhere that it wouldn’t slide around with the rocking of the boat. Gillion’s sword thudded against the wood, the blade skittering for a second before he was able to balance it properly to where it would be secure. Chip wrung his hands nervously in his lap.

Chip watched the Triton move around the room with an air of caution, his eyebrows slightly furrowed and his breath shallower than normal. He kept his eye on where Gillion was in the room, cowering back if he got too close to Chip’s bed and trying to keep his distance.

Chip could feel Jay watching him, her eyes darting across his form with a curious gaze as she silently asked what the hell he was doing. Chip completely ignored her, pulling back the covers and burrowing himself underneath the blankets. He pressed his face so deep into the pillow he could barely hear the other sounds around the room. Except for the creaking of the floorboards as Gillion passed by his cot and Chip tensed up as if he expected something to happen.

When whatever he expected to happen didn’t, Chip let out a sigh and practically deflated, pressing himself closer to the wall as he peeked over the covers to the rest of the room. Gillion was just now climbing into his barrel, gripping the edge of it tight enough that his dangerously sharp claws dug into the wood hard enough to leave indents. Chip grimaced and shuddered, furrowing his eyebrows.

A small splash of water spilled over the edge of the barrel as Gillion eased himself into it with a small sigh and a gurgle. His tail poked up over the edge as he sank below the surface of the water with the glowing of his scales illuminating the liquid. His fins twitched and he flicked the end of his tail, dragging it into the water with him after a few seconds.

Chip watched, waiting for a few seconds and holding his breath. The barrel wiggled a little bit and Gillion poked his head back out of the water, leaning over the edge of the barrel to retrieve the lid that he had leaned against the wall. His claws curled around the wooden surface, dragging gouges into the underside of it. Chip nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Gillion dragging his nails over the wooden surface. His ear flicked to the side and water dripped down his face in heavy, steady droplets, puddling on the floor at the base of his barrel.

The lantern light flickered across Gillion’s skin casting a yellow light that seemed to almost stretch and distort his features. His teeth seemed sharper than normal, double rows of razor-sharp fangs that glistened in the light as he pulled his lips back in a sort of smile. Chip figured it looked a lot more like a grimace, the same face that he always made when he didn’t like something.

“Goodnight,” Gillion finally muttered, voice already hoarse from the water in his gills. He slid his long tongue over his lips and spat water out of his mouth. Piercing blue eyes darted across the room, falling over Chip’s tense form and he shivered at the feeling. Then Gillion turned to Jay, waiting until he heard her echo a goodnight. Seeming satisfied, he sunk back into the water and placed the lid over the rim of the barrel with a hearty thump.

Chip remained silent, staring at Gillion’s barrel for a while until Jay finally decided that enough was enough and blew out the flame in the lantern, plunging the room into darkness. The only light came from the steady stream of moonlight spilling in through the porthole windows and the small lip of bioluminescence from Gillion’s barrel.

Jay exhaled sharply, shuffling a bit to get comfortable. Chip could see the dip of her shadow against the wall and could hear whenever she adjusted her position, which she did a lot. Her breathing was steady, not nearly as loud as Gillion’s, but still there. Chip fidgeted quietly, tilting his head to the side and tugging on the front of

“Night, Chip,” Jay whispered, pulling her sheets up to her chin and settling into her bed, “get some sleep.”

“Night,” Chip grunted, voice slightly gravely. He coughed into his fist, curled his fingers around the front of his shirt, and sank into his mattress. Jay fell silent, occasionally shifting in bed to readjust her position, but besides that, the sleeping quarters descended into quietness.

It didn’t take long for Chip to fall asleep, he was usually out pretty quickly in the night. Once the lights were out and he could finally settle without his nerves making him jump at every little noise, he was fine. Everything had turned out fine like he had figured it would. Just a quick hiccup during the day from the potion and the anxiety that was soon to follow. But by tomorrow he would be alright and back to his normal self again.

Chip drifted off with those thoughts in his mind, continuously reminding himself that it was fine. Tomorrow would be a better day. He was sure of it.

The next time Chip blearily opened his eyes, it was still dark in the sleeping quarters with a steady stream of light from the porthole window, illuminating the dust that gathered in the air. Chip huffed out a short breath, feeling the exhale deep in his lungs as he tried to relax. He could barely see any clouds in the sky from the little bit of horizon that he was able to glimpse through the window. That meant there would be nothing to obscure the moon so that the light would be decently steady. Once his eyes adjusted, he would be good.

He wasn’t entirely sure what had woken him up. The rocking of the boat wasn’t anything too alarming, a little rough seas but it was nothing too bad. Their ship could handle it. He couldn’t hear the rumble of any thunder or some sort of thud or noise that might have woken him up. Chip didn’t even register hearing a noise before he was suddenly pulled into consciousness. Not a thump or something being knocked over. He couldn’t hear the telltale sounds of footsteps signaling that someone else was awake or that there was something that needed attention.

Nothing of note that could have been the source of why he was suddenly very, very awake at the moment. It had to still be somewhere in the middle of the night, way later than when he would usually start his watch. 

So really, there was no reason at all as to why Chip should be awake at the moment. Only that he was. And it was a little annoying if he was being honest, considering that Chip could still feel the dregs of exhaustion clinging to his very being. His body wanted to be asleep at the moment, but he was unfortunately awake.

Chip slowly rolled over to his other side, pressed his shoulder against his pillow, and sank deeper into the mattress. He blinked his eyes open again and stared at the open sleeping quarters around him. Chip let out a slow breath and blew his hair out of his face, feeling the tickle of the brown strands against his forehead.

Jay was still asleep in her cot, her shoulders rising and falling with every faint breath that she took. The blanket was slipping off her shoulders and gravitating more towards the floor where it would probably end up by the time the sun rose above the horizon. Soft snores rose from her corner of the room and Chip just tiredly rolled his eyes, knowing with a small smile that at least she was getting good rest. No nightmares tonight.

The air around Chip smelled damp like salt water like Chip had been hanging out above deck for too long on a sunny day when the waves were a bit too rough which caused a mist of salt to settle over the deck. It was humid enough that a bead of sweat gathered down the side of Chip’s face of which he wiped away with the back of his hand. He kicked off the blankets and pushed the bottom hem of his shirt up, trailing his hand over his stomach to try and cool down some. That was probably why he woke up, it always got super hot in the sleeping quarters even though it was still nighttime.

Chip debated completely taking his shirt off before realizing that, no, he didn’t really want to have to sit up to do that. He would rather just try and go back to sleep instead of figuring out what had woken him up. Better to do that than get himself up in a panic trying to figure out what was wrong (there was nothing wrong, nothing sounded out of place).

He scrubbed at his face with his hand, pushing his bangs away from his forehead, and shifted once again to try and find a comfortable position. Laying on his side was too hot in the humidity of the room and laying on his back felt too wrong. Chip grumbled to himself and curled his arms around his pillow, pressing his face into the soft fabric. He yawned and sank deeper into his cot.

The Albatross creaked and groaned with the gentle pushing of the waves which rocked it back and forth with a steady rhythm. Occasionally there would be a particularly large wave that would cause the entire ship to lurch and Chip would nearly hit his head on the headboard since he was so far up on his cot.

But no matter how deeply Chip burrowed himself into his bed; or how tightly he squeezed his eyes shut; Chip found himself incredibly painfully awake.

Maybe he should get up to try and do something productive so he wasn’t just wasting time laying in bed all night or until his body finally decided to give him a break.

But it was the middle of the night. There wasn’t much that he would be able to do around the ship if it was dark and he couldn’t see. Anything that needed to be done could wait until the morning when things were supposed to be taken care of.

A sudden creak in the sleeping quarters made Chip roll back onto his side to try and see what the noise was. He blinked and dug the heel of his palm against his eye socket to stare out into the darkness.

Jay was still asleep in her cot, she hadn’t moved much since the last time Chip had looked at her. Still sleeping just as peacefully as before, snoring just as loudly.

Chip’s eyes trailed to the water barrel in the other corner of the room. The lid rattled slightly, the edge lifting up before thudding back down just as quickly. Chip wrinkled his lip and furrowed his eyebrow, squinting to try and see what Gillion was trying to do. Maybe he was just moving around in his sleep or was having a nightmare. Chip remembered the times that Gillion would have really bad nightmares and his entire barrel would wobble from how frantically he moved.

Not yet sitting up, Chip watched closely to see if he could tell what was going on without getting up just yet. He didn’t want to wake Gillion unnecessarily, especially if the Triton was just readjusting or something like that. No use losing sleep over trivial things, especially when all three of them had a hard time getting rest. Considering that Chip was awake at the moment seemed good enough of an example as to why none of them got good sleep.

However, instead of moving for a bit and settling, Chip saw the lid of the barrel get pushed up even further, a small glow beginning to spill into the room from the light on Gillion’s scales. A clawed hand curled around the edge of the lid and a pair of piercing blue eyes poked up above the water like a sea monster stalking prey.

Slowly, Gillion pulled his upper body out of the water, eyes darting around the room as he curled his arms around the edge of it. He carefully dropped the lid to the floor so that it wouldn’t make too loud of a thump and continued to pull himself up and out of the water. Droplets spilled from his mouth and nose, draining from his gills and making soft plopping noises into the larger mass in the barrel.

The water was still glowing from Gillion’s scales as his chest heaved with the strained weight of air in his lungs. He brought a hand up to his face and wiped his mouth off with the back of his hand, the webbing between his fingers stretched and he almost seemed to flex his claws.

Chip felt Gillion’s eyes pass over his form and Chip pretended to be asleep, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing himself to relax. He could feel his heart pounding against his rib cage, not liking the way that Gillion looked at him.

The Triton was only illuminated by the eerie under light from his water barrel, the bioluminescence of his scales being the only glowing thing in the room. The way that his eyes glowed made it easy to tell what he was looking at. His pupils were contracted to barely slits as he let out a slow, wheezing breath, dragging his claws over the edge of his barrel.

Chip had no idea what Gillion was doing. Usually, he wasn’t awake during the night so he couldn’t be one to judge if this was something that Gillion regularly did or if it was something to be concerned about. But when Gillion got up at night, usually someone else woke up, but Chip was already awake. He could see Gillion and still had no idea what the Triton was doing.

However, after a few seconds of just silently staring at the rest of the room and getting his ragged breathing under control, Gillion moved once again. He curled his hands around the edge of the barrel tighter, swinging one leg over the edge and setting it down on the floor. Water dripped off his form and plopped to the floor with a sound that nearly echoed in the silent room.

Chip never realized how loud the dripping of water could be until it was dead silent and it seemed to echo in the room.

Gillion was still looking at Chip as he eased himself out of his barrel and onto the ground. His tail lightly smacked against the floor, fins dragging with the weight of the water as he snorted some. Gillion’s nose twitched and he glanced around once more, staring at Jay for a little bit before again turning to Chip.

Maybe Gillion did have a nightmare. But usually, Gillion wouldn’t wake the others for something like that, the only times that Chip or Jay knew when he was having a bad night is if he gets out of his barrel and went to the top deck (usually he will stay there for the rest of the night); or they wake up in the morning where Gillion will be sitting on the floor with his back pressed to one of their cots, his chin leaning on the mattress.

But this seemed new. As far as Chip could remember, this wasn’t something that he had seen of Gillion before. Especially with how quiet he was being, Gillion never moved that silently; he was always pretty loud. And since his balance on land was shoddy at best, he had even worse luck with trying to sneak.

Gillion exhaled sharply, water continued to run down his face and neck. There was something off about the way he was breathing. It was too rattled, too unsteady, too wheezing, even for Gillion. His chest rose and fell with stuttered breaths and Chip could hear it from all the way across the room as he struggled to pull oxygen into his poor lungs.

He took a step forward, sliding his foot against the ground to avoid making too much noise. Then another step. He approached Chip’s cot as quietly as he possibly could, tail swishing back and forth behind him as the glow of his scales almost seemed to ripple with his movement.

As he got closer, Chip began to reason that Gillion probably had a bad dream and was coming to sit by Chip’s cot. It had been a few times recently when Chip had woken up in the morning to a pair of blue eyes staring at him right by his pillow. Not necessarily the most nerving sight to wake up to, but he understood what Gillion was dealing with and what he was trying to do. They all coped in different ways.

Gillion liked to check to make sure the others were alright, he would stay up longer than the others just to make sure everyone was sleeping well before he allowed himself to drift off. He only knew that Gillion did this from the times that they had slept in the same bed and Chip could still hear that Gillion was awake, just by the way he was breathing and how his heart pounded rapidly against his ribcage.

However, there was something off in the way that Gillion was standing near Chip’s cot. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lip pulled back into an almost half-snarl, sharp teeth exposed behind pale blue skin. His shoulders were held tense, almost pulled up to his ears.

Chip squinted, not wanting to make it too obvious that he had been awake this whole time, but not really wanting to just sit here with Gillion standing above him. He didn’t really like it when people watched him sleep, it was creepy.

“Gill,” Chip muttered, voice groggy and hoarse from lack of use. He scooted to the side to make room for the Triton and patted the mattress tiredly with one hand, “do you want in?”

Gillion said nothing, pressing his lips into a thin line and clenching his jaw. But after a few seconds of deafening silence, he slowly eased himself down onto the bed next to Chip. His movements were jerky and unnatural with the way that he was tensed up and when he finally laid down with his head on the pillow, he was practically stiff as a board, tail still hanging off the side of the bed.

Chip figured that maybe he had made Gillion uncomfortable somehow, even though this wasn’t anywhere near the first time Chip had offered a spot in his bed to Gillion. But maybe that wasn’t what Gillion had wanted but was just doing what he was told to be polite.

That was the thing with Gillion, if you offered him something or gave something that could be slightly considered a command, he would take it even if that wasn’t what he wanted. That’s why Chip would normally wait for Gillion to say something first or try to make a move (rare as that was).

But he had already gotten this far, if Gillion wanted to leave, Chip would leave enough room that hopefully, he wouldn’t feel obligated to stay if he didn’t want to.

Though, instead of leaving, after a few minutes of awkwardly laying next to Chip, Chip felt a pair of claws encircle his torso. Gillion scooted closer to Chip, close enough that he could feel cold breath on his neck.

Chip threw his arm around Gillion’s shoulder, pulling him in a little closer and trying to shift to as comfortable of a position as possible. Gillion practically buried his face against Chip’s shoulder, his hair tickling the underside of Chip’s chin. He shivered and tilted his head back to get rid of the feeling. Gillion pressed his claws against Chip’s stomach, not enough that it hurt, but enough that Chip could feel the sensation. It tickled a bit.

Gillion’s breathing was ragged, short puffs of air curling against Chip’s skin which made droplets of moisture form. His chest rose and fell rapidly with each wheezing breath and Chip had a moment of concern that Gillion was having trouble breathing, or worse, having a panic attack.

But then, before Chip could ask what was wrong, he felt the sharp jolt of teeth against his collarbone, dual rows of razor-sharp teeth digging into his skin. Not the first time that Chip had felt Gillion bite him, sometimes he would simply rest his jaw over Chip’s arm or shoulder, not hard enough that it hurt but Chip figured it was a sensory thing. He didn’t mind it usually, it was just one of those things that Gillion did.

But it wasn’t like that this time. This time, Gillion bit down hard, His teeth tore through the layers of flesh on Chip’s shoulder, digging into his collarbone and locking there with an audible click. It happened so fast that Chip barely even had time to react before his skin had been practically torn through as Chip instinctively shoved Gillion away with a sudden jolt of strength, flashes of pain radiating down his shoulder. Droplets of blood gushed to the surface and ran down his shoulder in a steady stream. Chip stared at Gillion with wide eyes, mouth slightly open as he struggled to think of what to say through the throbbing pain.

“What the hell, Gill?” Chip spluttered, scooting away from Gillion even more and bringing a hand up to his collar, he curled his leg up to his chest in an attempt to push Gillion away, “that hurt.”

Maybe Chip was able to chalk up Gillion’s previous silence to him being upset with something or having a bad night, or just the fact that Gillion had a hard time talking quietly at night so he chose just not to talk at all. But this time, when Gillion still didn’t say anything, not even the usual apology that he would slip out whenever he accidentally hurt Chip or Jay, Chip was beginning to sense something was up.

Gillion just slid his tongue over his pale blue lips, licking the blood that had smeared over his face, eyes darting back and forth across Chip’s form. His hands were still placed over Chip’s waist, claws running over his skin. Gillion was trembling ever so slightly.

Chip’s heart pounded in his chest and he could still feel the stings of pain throbbing against his shoulder, a hint of nausea churning in his stomach at the sting of pain. Gillion had never bit that hard before, not enough to draw blood. Not even without saying anything afterward.

The end of Gillion’s tail lashed back and forth, the fins dragging in the air as Gillion once again shuffled closer. His claws dug deeper into Chip’s skin, holding him there so that Chip couldn’t move without digging them deeper and causing more pain.

“What are you doing?” Chip didn’t even try to mask the volume of his voice, bringing his hands up to shove at Gillion’s chest to get the man to back off, “Gill, you realize you have claws, right? That hurts.”

Hot jolts of pain ran down Chip’s spine as Gillion dug his claws deeper and deeper. Enough that Chip was squirming to get out, trying to pull Gillion’s hands away or pry his claws away from his skin, yelps of pain spilling from his lips. He dug his own nails into Gillion’s skin, curling around his wrists and trying to get away.

A low growl rumbled from Gillion’s chest, the sound startling Chip as he stared at Gillion with wide eyes, staring into the bloodied teeth in front of him. Gillion had never done this before. What the hell was he doing?

Chip shoved at his chest again, trying to back away from Gillion or to get into a position where he could get out and get away. Gillion’s shallow breathing spilled from his lips, chest heaving with the weight of the strain. Chip pushed again, slamming his elbow into Gillion’s chest.

Gillion suddenly surged forward, his claws dragging against Chip’s sides and tearing gouges in his skin. Chip cried out in pain and tried to shove the Triton away, going so far as to attempt to knee Gillion in the stomach. He could feel blood dripping down his sides from where his skin had been slashed open, pain causing his breathing to quicken with rapid rises and falls of his chest.

Cold hands wrapped around Chip’s neck and Chip could feel Gillion’s knee digging into his side from where he pinned Chip to the bed. Another growl spilled from Gillion’s lips as he bared his teeth, long tongue poking past the gap.

Chip squirmed, he scratched at Gillion’s arms with his pathetically short nails and tried to get out from under Gillion. But the Triton was strong and the claws around his throat made it hard to get in a different position, especially with the way that his nails dug deeper into his flesh, tearing at it and drawing blood.

“Gillion!” Chip practically shouted, his voice hoarse and wheezing. It was getting difficult to breathe with the way that the heel of Gillion’s palm was crushing his windpipe. He cried out and hit Gillion in the chest, making an attempt to claw at his gills, knowing that was a sensitive spot. Chip hated to hurt Gillion, especially when he was taking advantage of weak spots that Gillion had voiced insecurity about. But at this point, he needed anything that would get him to let go.

Gillion’s claws were razor sharp and they cut through his flesh easily. Chip had seen him leave gouges in things much tougher than humans: metal, rock, wood.

Tears sprung from the corners of Chip’s eyes, rolling down his face and making him gag. Gillion dropped one hand from Chip’s throat, clawing at Chip’s chest and digging his fingers into his flesh.

Flickers of white circles flashed in Chip’s vision as Gillion leaned down, one claw shifting to grab at Chip’s wrist, his thumb digging into the vein. Gillion sunk his teeth around Chip’s throat, the individual rows leaving their own gashes.

Claws, teeth, hands. Anything that Gillion could use to pin Chip down, holding him there with the risk of doing more injury depending on how hard he tried to get away. Nothing that Chip did even worked to slightly deter Gillion. Gillion was way stronger than Chip, enough that he didn’t really need to use much effort to pin him down.

He kicked him in any area that his knee would reach, and scratched at his arms and gills in an attempt to even make Gillion flinch so that Chip could try and get away. He squirmed and screamed profanities, calling Gillion’s name to try and get him to snap out of whatever he was dealing with this time. He went so far as digging his nails into the sensitive part of Gillion’s stomach, tearing at the raw scar that had been gouged into his flesh in an attempt to gauge a reaction.

None of that seemed to work.

Gillion sunk his teeth deeper, blood spilling from the wound like a punctured pipe and Chip could taste the warm iron in his mouth, choking on the thick liquid and spitting it from his lips. Gillion continued to claw at his chest, tearing the flesh from his bones and digging so deep into his ribs that Chip was sure he was going to snap them right off with the desperate way that he continued to dig.

All the while, guttural, growling-like noises spilled from Gillion’s lips as he wheezed and panted.

Chip could barely think through the pain, his only thoughts being the white-hot flashes of alarm and the need to get away. To run. To hide. To do something but sit here and let Gillion tear him limb from limb, flesh from bone. Because what the hell was Gillion doing.

Chip had been trying to fight back but even as blue blood began to drip from wounds that Chip had managed to tear into his skin, the Triton didn’t even react, he just seemed to tear deeper. Chip could barely breathe, his throat so tight from Gillion’s teeth and blood thick in his mouth, thick enough that he was beginning to choke with ragged and violent coughs.

With a sudden jerk, Gillion pulled back, bringing with him a good chunk of Chip’s flesh as Chip cried out. A strangled scream spilled from his lips and he coughed blood out, trying to spit it from his mouth to breathe easier. It didn’t help. His lungs were tight and felt slick with the crimson liquid that slid down his open throat.  

Gillion sat back, an almost feral look in his eyes with the same expression that he wore whenever he was about to smite something. Flickers of magic curled around his skin, sparking in his coral and making Chip’s hair stand up straight.

With ease, Gillion was able to grab both of Chip’s wrists, tearing his flesh open and lapping up the spilled blood with his tongue, pulling Chip’s hand to his mouth, a sparkle of something almost excited flashed in his eyes. A hint of a smile spread across Gillion’s face and he licked his lips, chest heaving desperately.

Chip couldn’t even pull away, desperately trying to get some sort of oxygen in his lungs as the pain clouded his vision, dark spots and circles flashed across his field of sight and his eyes flickered closed for a second. He could feel the rapid thrumming of his heartbeat against his ribcage like a desperate bird trying to get out of a trap.

Everything felt slick with his blood, Gillion’s claws dug so deep into his flesh that it made it impossible for him to try and use the situation to his advantage since Gillion already had good enough of a grip. He choked and gasped, lurching back in any way that he could, still trying to get out of Gillion’s tight grasp.

What was Jay doing during all of this? Where was she? Was she still asleep?

Chip tried to call her name, the only thing coming from his mouth being a desperate gurgle as Gillion continued to lick the gushing blood from his wrists. He seemed to be enjoying it, wheezing and swallowing it like a desperate dog, letting Chip choke on his own blood as he lavished himself.

The room was beginning to spin around him and it was harder to keep his eyes open the longer that he stared at Gillion sitting above him. His sheets were uncomfortably sticky and Chip’s body was practically numb to the pain at this point, his nerves so shot and overwhelmed that it was getting hard to do much else besides sit there. His breathing was shallow and shaky, barely anything coming through his half-parted lips. He coughed another mouthful of blood out as it dribbled down his chin.

Gillion made a noise similar to the familiar happy gurgles that he made, something else lilting the tone and making it impossible to distinguish. Chip tried once again to desperately call Jay’s name, then Gillion’s, but nothing came out.

Finally, Gillion let Chip’s hand drop, having seemingly drank his fill as Chip’s arm slipped out of his painfully tight grasp and fell to his chest with a thump. Gillion leaned down towards Chip’s throat, breath puffing against Chip’s tender skin and he groaned in pain.

As Gillion clamped his jaws around Chip’s neck, Chip could barely hear anything else in the room beside the deafening ringing of his ears. He let his eyes slip shut, unable to manage the strength to hold them open for any longer, shallow gasps getting smaller and smaller.

He could hear Gillion growl, tearing at his throat with his razor-sharp teeth. Chip was unable to open his eyes, unable to breathe, unable to think, unable to move. He couldn’t even feel anything besides the excruciating numbness tingling from every inch of his body.

Pretty soon, everything, including the empty numbness began to fade away as his breath finally wheezed from his lungs, too much blood to really keep any oxygen in it. A startled, weak cough spilled from his lips, blood spewing in the air and dribbling down his chin before everything else was gone.

Chip jolted awake with a startled scream, his voice catching in his throat as he panted, deep breaths spilling in and out of his open mouth. There was something tight against Chip’s chest that he struggled to get out of, tearing at whatever was constricting him and his breathing in an attempt to get away. He needed to get out.

After a few moments of struggling, something gave way and Chip found himself thudding to the wooden floor with a loud bang, his elbow slamming to the ground. The thin, ratted sheets of his bed tangled around Chip’s ankles making it harder for him to catch his fall as he seemed to bruise every part of his body. He nearly knocked the wind out of himself, lungs contracting with the strain of his gasps.

His chest ached and he could still feel Gillion’s teeth sinking around his throat, the sensation of his tongue lapping up the spilled blood. His sides and chest stung like there was something still jabbing into his skin, tearing into his flesh. He could feel the stickiness against his skin, sweat causing his pajamas to cling to him and making him writhe and tug against the fabric in an attempt to free himself.

It almost felt like there were sparks of electricity dancing across Chip’s skin, tickling his arms and legs and making it hard to move. Chip grabbed at his chest, tugging at his shirt and peeling it from his skin.

His chest heaved with each frantic breath that Chip struggled to suck in. His ears were ringing so loudly he could barely hear anything else over the sound. 

It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was just a dream.

It had felt so real. The pain had been real. Chip’s fingers were sore from trying to claw Gillion’s hands away from his skin and his palms were scraped from him trying to shove and push. The signs of struggles still plagued his skin and Chip wouldn’t be surprised if blood continued to gush from open wounds on his skin, the radiating pain causing him to gasp and heave. 

He pushed himself away until he could feel his back press against the nearest solid surface, the poles of his bed frame digging into his spine. His blanket fell from his form, settling on the ground and making his hands slip when he tried to gain traction to sit up.

Chip couldn’t breathe. He could still feel teeth against his throat, squeezing his windpipe and making it impossible for air to get into his lungs. He wheezed and gasped, pitiful whimpers spilling from his lips as he curled in on himself in an attempt to hide from the rest of the room. If his legs wouldn’t work to let him run away, he would try and hide himself to avoid being seen.

Gillion had attacked him. Gillion had never done that before. Gillion would never do something like that. It was just a dream.

But Chip knew how sharp Gillion’s claws were. He knew how strong his jaw was and how sharp his teeth could be. He had seen the damage that Gillion could easily do to creatures and monsters they fought. The Triton was incredibly strong, stronger than both Chip and Jay with all the dangerous things to match.

Chip had seen how easily Gillion got caught up in his fights, how he could easily lose himself in a battle when it came down to it. It had been trained into him, the battle instincts, the fighting. All those things that made Chip relieved that Gillion was on their side and not an enemy.

But Chip knew the thoughts that Gillion had. The way that his control sometimes slipped or the urges that Gillion had when he was restless with nothing to do. Chip knew just as well as Gillion how easy it would be.

Chip gagged, tugging at his collar to get it away from his neck and make it easier to breathe. His lungs ached and he curled his fingers around his frizzy brown hair to try and calm himself down. It was just a dream. A nightmare. It wasn’t real.

“Chip?” A hesitant voice filtered in through the echoing of Chip’s thoughts and the way that his entire brain seemed to rattle with his ragged breathing.

Chip didn’t even have the thought to muffle how loudly he screamed, jerking away and lifting his head from where he had buried it against his knees. His throat burned raw and he gasped. He couldn’t breathe. There were claws piercing his throat, crushing his windpipe. He couldn’t breathe. No oxygen was going into his lungs, he sucked in a short breath and it came right back out.

A pair of glowing blue eyes stared back at him as Chip frantically looked around the room. The small figure in front of him slowly came into focus despite the darkness that surrounded him.

Glowing eyes. Glowing scales. A rough hand reached out from the darkness.

Piercing blue eyes. Razor-sharp teeth wrapping around his throat, tearing his flesh, and digging into his skin. A long, rough tongue licking up the blood. The faintest hint of a smile through double rows of white fangs.

He was going to die. He was going to die. He was going to die.  

He couldn’t breathe.

Chip’s breath bubbled in his throat and he choked. He hit his elbow against the bed in his frantic attempt to push himself away, hands and limbs flying in whatever direction to try and defend himself.

“Get away!” Chip nearly screeched, voice so hoarse he was surprised if his words were understandable at all. He choked on his breath, descending into shallow, harsh coughs that tore his throat raw. He was wheezing and crying out, hot tears pooling under his chin and running down his face.

“Go away, get away from me,” Chip begged, scrambling away from Gillion. He reached out and curled his fingers around one of the poles of his cot, using it as an anchor to try and pull himself up to his feet.

Chip made it a couple steps away from his bed before his legs gave out, sending him sprawling to the floor in a gangly heap of limbs and fabric. Chip coughed and continued to frantically try and push himself away, his entire body shaking so badly that he could hardly keep himself upright.

His eyes were wide as he stared over at Gillion, not letting his gaze travel from the Triton once. His chest ached like something had coiled around his lungs and was squeezing his breath out, desperate sobs spilling from his lips as he patted around for some sort of weapon. Chip didn’t remember where he left his swords, nowhere nearby that he could feel around for.

“Chip,” Gillion said again, a worried tone lilting his voice as he held his hands up in front of himself in a placating gesture. Chip held one hand out defensively, trembling harder than before.

If he couldn’t get his breathing under control he was going to pass out. But he could still feel the sensation of Gillion’s teeth, the sharp puncture wounds that tore flesh from his throat. The way that he tore against his skin. Everything still seemed to radiate pain. His heart pounding so hard against his rib cage that Chip feared it was going to burst.

“Go away,” Chip sobbed, feeling his own tears leave streaks against his cheeks, he desperately pulled at his shirt to try and make it easier to breathe. Nothing worked. He was suffocating.

His chest heaved and he couldn’t even keep oxygen in his lungs long enough that it actually did anything helpful. In out. In out. He was going to pass out. 

Chip needed to get out. He needed to hide. To run. To get someplace that Gillion wouldn’t follow.

Chip tried again to get himself to his feet, struggling to remain standing for long enough to take a successful step toward the door. He swayed dangerously with the rocking of the boat, his entire body weak and trembling as he gasped and coughed. Chip gagged again, bringing one hand up to his mouth to hide his coughing.

He choked on his tears and stuttered breaths, frantically trying to keep his balance and make it toward the door.

Someone grabbed his arm, fingers curling around his bicep in a way to almost steady him. But Chip screamed again, jerking away and shoving whoever it was to the side. His knees popped with how suddenly his legs seemed to give out from beneath him and Chip hit the back of his head on the bedpost. He knocked his elbow against something nearby and could hear a loud clatter as something was knocked over. Pain radiated from his shoulder where something knocked against him.

Chip jerked his head back and forth, trying to find where Gillion was in the room. His vision was blurry through the tears but he only needed to look for the glow of Gillion’s scales.

He didn’t see the Triton. He couldn’t find him.

Chip’s breath sped up, he felt around where he was sitting, nails scraping against the floorboards. Where was Gillion?

“Chip, Chip, hey,” A figure stepped into his vision, “slow down. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Chip pulled his knees up to his chest, and curled his arms around his legs as pitiful sobs tore themselves from his throat. He gasped, nausea swirling in his stomach as he gagged once more.

A familiar face filtered in, red hair spilling over pale shoulders as Jay crouched in front of him, eyes full of worry and concern. Chip sobbed loudly, whimpering and choking on his own frantic breathing.

“I’m gonna… I’m going to die…” Chip gagged, chest heaving and his blood rushing to his face. The sickly sweet taste of iron filled his mouth and he quickly spat it out, trying to get rid of the taste. His throat ached and squeezed, and something curled around his neck.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Jay reassured him, holding her hands in front of herself in a placating gesture, not touching Chip but showing that she had nothing that could possibly hurt him.

“Gillion… he…” Chip gasped, and wheezed, “I don’t want to die…”

“You’re not going to die, but you need to breathe,” Jay said, “or you might pass out.”

Chip knew that. His face burned with the sting of his tears and his head felt so full of air that he would pass out on the spot. All his frantic breathing had done was make him even more lightheaded, with none of the oxygen going to his lungs.

“Where… where… is…Gillion?” Chip strained to be heard, not even knowing if he was understandable through the ringing in his ears and the rushing of blood in his face. He dug his nails into his arms, tugged at his hair, and tried to steel himself.

“I sent him out,” Jay explained simply, not going any further than that, “can I touch you?”

Hesitantly, Chip gave a jerky nod, eyes continuing to dart around the room in case Jay was lying to him. What if Gillion hadn’t actually left? He might still be there.

The feeling of sharp teeth tearing into his skin made him shiver, he cried at the phantom pain that dug into his skin causing white-hot flashes of surprise to run down Chip’s spine. It still felt like there was blood running down his wrists, the punctures of his veins dripping and spilling blood onto the wooden floor, the stings of agony from the uneven slices causing him to gasp and shiver.

Warm hands pressed against Chip’s cheeks, fingers carding through his hair and pushing his sweat-soaked bangs away from his face. Chip continued to gasp and wheeze, staring wide-eyed at Jay as she pulled him closer to him. He resisted only slightly to being moved, his chest was raw and tender, wounds that he knew didn’t exist aching like they were fresh.

“Chip, slow down, breathe,” Jay urged, sliding her hands over his shoulders and pulling him into her arms, “You’re okay.”

“He… he killed me… he attacked me…” Chip gasped out, pressing his face into Jay’s shoulder, tears immediately soaking into her nightshirt as he sobbed. He curled his arms around Jay’s torso, holding her tight enough and hiding away from the world like she would be able to protect him.

“It was a nightmare, Chip,” Jay reassured him, tucking his head underneath her chin, “Gillion would never hurt you or any of us. Not on purpose.”

“But he…” Chip curled his fingers around the front of her shirt, “it was… it  hurts .”

He could still feel the stinging pain. The agony of his chest being clawed at and ripped. The suffocating feeling of his windpipe being squeezed and the taste of his own blood in his mouth. The feeling of choking on his own stuttered breathing and gasps, his chest tight with a writhing sensation.

“You’re going to be okay,” Jay smoothed her hand down his back in gentle circles, doing what she could to try and comfort his sobs and gasping breaths. Chip continued to choke, each breath that he sucked in through his mouth wheezing out just as quickly. Nothing stayed in his lungs long enough for him to actually benefit from it.

Chip’s heart was pounding so hard against his ribs that it physically hurt, the feeling making him want to gag with the rising nausea. Chip coughed and choked.

“Slow down,” Jay urged, “breathe.”

“I can’t…” Chip sobbed, he was going to pass out. He pressed his face into Jay’s shoulder to hide from the way the room was spinning around them. He swayed and rocked back and forth, trying to focus on the way that Jay was rubbing his shoulders and running her fingers over his back.

“You can… it was just a nightmare… you’re okay,” she promised, “you’re okay.”

“It hurts. It hurts. It hurts,” Chip cried, tears and snot running down his face, “It still hurts.”

“Deep breath,” Jay ran her fingers through his hair, curling her fingers around the smaller strands at the nape of his neck.

Jay seemed to purposely slow down her own breathing, knowing that Chip could hear and feel the rise and fall of her chest. Chip squeezed his eyes shut, curling his arms around Jay even tighter, holding her tightly like if he let go she would disappear.

Chip tried to follow her slow breaths, chest contracting tight enough that it was hard to get much oxygen in his lungs. Jay deepened her breath, Chip choked and spluttered. He scrubbed at his face with one hand, trying to wipe the tears that continued to roll down his cheeks, pawing at his face and coughing into his fist hard enough that it made his throat burn.

“You’re okay. No one is going to hurt you,” Jay reassured him, “Gillion would never hurt you or any of us. You’re okay.”

Chip sniffled, his chest stuttered with each frantic breath but he was beginning to be able to follow the rhythm that Jay tried to map out. Her chest rose and fell steadily with each exaggerated breath that she took for Chip and he pressed himself close enough that he could lean his ear against her sternum. Her steady heartbeat (albeit faster than normal) thrummed against his ear and her breath puffed against his hair.

“It hurts,” Chip whimpered, tugging at the front of his shirt and digging his nails into the fabric to pull it away from his chest. Jay held him a little tighter.

Tears continued to fall from his eyes, rolling down his cheeks and soaking into Jay’s nightshirt. His entire face felt sticky as he continued to hiccup and cough, struggling to get himself under control. But he could feel the dregs of panic loosening as Jay continued to hold him just as tightly as before.

She was safe. He was fine because he knew that he could trust Jay. She wouldn’t hurt him. She wouldn’t let him get hurt.

His chest ached like open wounds had been gouged into his flesh (there had been, Gillion’s claws were sharp enough to easily pierce his skin) and he still shivered and squirmed at the feeling of his teeth against his neck (it was hard to breathe). But Chip painfully managed to suck air into his lungs, gasping and choking with each deep inhale and letting it out in a stuttered woosh that sounded a lot like a balloon deflating.

Jay smoothed his hair away from his face, cupping his cheek in one hand and curling her arms around him in a way that he could hide from the rest of the room. Which is exactly what Chip did, burrowing himself deeper into the embrace until the only thing that he could hear was his own heartbeat and the sound of Jay’s heart thudding against his ear. Jay let out a slow breath and leaned back some, pressing herself against the bedpost of his cot.

Everything about Chip felt raw like he was one loud noise away from panicking again. His chest and neck stung and ached like the wounds were still there. His lungs burned with the weight of his stuttered gasps and his throat was torn raw by his sobbing and screaming. It was as if he were wrung out and left to dry in the sun all day, yet tears continued to flow long after his sobs and hyperventilating died down.

He had worn himself out, heart still hammering in his chest and face so flushed that he was probably sunburned just from the moonlight. But even with the exhaustion that coated his limbs like sticky honey, Chip refused to close his eyes long enough to be able to drift off.

He couldn’t go back to sleep. Not after that. Not after a nightmare like that where it was impossible to tell what was a dream versus what was reality. Not when it felt so real that the pain still lingered even after he had woken up.

Not when Gillion was still somewhere nearby. And the way that his claws dug gouges into things with ease, tearing marks into the wood like it were soft butter.

So Chip blinked his eyes open whenever he felt them drooping, curling his fingers tighter around the back of Jay’s shirt and listening to the sound of her breathing and her heartbeat. She was right there, she was real and she would be there if anything was to happen. 

Slowing his breathing until it was a normal pace, Chip let himself relax, pulling at the front of his shirt and fidgeting enough so that he wouldn’t fall asleep. He didn’t want to sleep after that. And he wouldn’t.

But he didn’t think that he had the strength to get up and move, not when he still felt like he might collapse from how hard he was shaking. So he stayed in Jay’s arms, shivering and listening to the reassuring sound of her steady heartbeat.

He was fine. It was just a dream.

Nothing to be worried about.

Chip would be fine. A little lack of sleep wouldn’t hurt.